tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029229756921827022011-12-07T09:29:46.430-08:00My blog about my blended family as we explore a non-traditional family arrangement -- my ex-husband's first wife and I are raising our children together on the days when they are with us -- in an effort to keep our family strong and centered in a turbulent world.Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.comBlogger181100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-48815522652870162062011-04-29T02:43:00.000-07:002011-04-29T02:43:37.108-07:00

In the weeks leading up to today's royal wedding, none of the hooplah really seemed to penetrate my consciousness. I scoffed at the excess, disdained the nonstop blather -- until I heard my best friend, Karen, and her daughters talking about their plans to wake up in the middle of the night to watch it live on TV. Their excited chatter took me back to another royal wedding, 30 years ago, that I

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-18688021504409514612010-11-30T13:45:00.000-08:002010-11-30T13:45:33.530-08:00

Shortly after my ex-husband and I split up, I was driving one night, listening to "Little Wonders" by Rob Thomas, and tears began rolling down my cheeks: "Let it go, let it roll right off your shoulder Don't you know the hardest part is over? ... All of my regret will wash away somehow But I cannot forget the way I feel right now In these small hours." Never before, as an adult, really, have I

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-56781394304960865882010-11-10T22:06:00.000-08:002010-11-10T22:06:47.416-08:00

It's my 44th birthday and I'm on the pier in Pismo, high above the waves crashing below. I'm watching surfers, young and strong, gauge the waves as they roll in, ducking beneath the white foam of those they deem not worthy. Finally, they see the perfect one. And they deliberately try to get on top of it, try to get on top of something roiling and unstable, no solid ground beneath them, only a

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-3240033396560105252010-08-19T13:54:00.000-07:002010-08-19T13:54:08.818-07:00

A year ago, I had some big goals looming ahead of me. I was just a couple of weeks away from a hike up Mount Whitney, I had a half marathon in San Francisco in October, and after those things, I began training for my first full marathon, in Atlanta in March. I achieved everything I set out to do. I missed the time I was shooting for on my marathon by a few minutes. But considering that I ran the

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-23050730604684262582010-06-17T22:54:00.000-07:002010-06-18T09:30:38.351-07:00

Last time I wrote, a little more than a month ago, I wrote about a bad day I was having, in regard to my feelings. Bad day is probably putting it too mildly -- meltdown might be more accurate. And it wasn't the last time that's happened recently. Which is probably why I haven't written in more than a month. I struggle with depression. At times, I've taken medication for it. But for the past

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-41301533244362822782010-05-11T22:49:00.000-07:002010-05-12T06:42:53.057-07:00

It seems like so much of what I write about these days has to do with feelings. But when you try to suppress your feelings for as long as I had, that tends to be the overwhelming day-to-day experience as you come out of it. Most of the time, I feel like I’m doing better, feeling stronger. I set goals, I work toward them, I achieve them. I can roll with things. I focus on the positive. I am

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-88728248911909179962010-05-02T21:47:00.000-07:002010-05-02T21:48:42.029-07:00

A few weeks ago, my youngest daughter and I were driving home from the zoo. I mentioned that I was going out with someone on Monday night. Over the next five minutes or less, the questions from my 6-year-old were far ranging, and resulted in a downturn in my mood. "Am I going to have a new daddy?" came first, quickly followed by questions about courtship and getting married to having babies

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-71775062707322528302010-04-22T21:44:00.000-07:002010-04-22T21:44:17.335-07:00

The Moms' House: Three moms, two of whom were once married to the same man; three daughters, and one soon-to-be returning adult son. So who are these women and children who inhabit the Moms’ House? And how might things be changing up a little bit in the months to come? It’s my story, yes, and one I’ve opened up to a lot of strangers. But I wouldn’t have a story without those around me. And I’ve

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-24097986894297744132010-04-05T07:28:00.000-07:002010-04-05T07:28:10.360-07:00

A good friend today called me the "worst mom ever." Is it because I beat my children? Neglect to have them brush their teeth? Let them wear mismatched clothes in public? No. My crime is that I hate Chuck E. Cheese and refuse to take my youngest daughter there. I hate the arcade noise, the pizza that tastes to me like the crust is cardboard, the unruly hordes of children. And most of all, that

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-51609418043377714722010-03-23T07:35:00.000-07:002010-04-07T21:39:05.481-07:00

I recently ran my first-ever full marathon, the ING Georgia Marathon, March 21. I've done about six half marathons, including Nike Women's in San Francisco twice. Some of you have followed my training for this event, as I've written about it before in the months leading up to this. The course was beautiful that Sunday morning. Started right by Olympic Park outside of our hotel in downtown

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-12525613614070642362010-03-12T05:23:00.000-08:002010-03-12T05:23:33.609-08:00

Someone called me a single mom this week. But I'm not. A single woman, yes. But not a single parent. A single parent must stay home or leave work when his or her child is sick. A single parent can't sneak out before dawn for an early morning run, leaving a small child at home still sleeping. A single parent can't bounce parenting issues and choices off of another adult. He or she is alone,

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-47527770692130392772010-02-17T22:17:00.000-08:002010-02-19T08:44:24.574-08:00

Apathy (noun): 1: lack of feeling or emotion: impassiveness. 2: lack of interest or concern: indifference.I don't understand apathy. I don't get not feeling emotions -- though I could see how someone might confuse states I have been in in the past as being in a state of apathy. I don't think I was though.At points in my past, sometimes extended periods at a time, I lived in a state of

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-16278003780482990692010-02-05T07:19:00.001-08:002010-02-05T09:22:57.755-08:00

Last night, I was driving south on Highway 99, taking the girls to their dad's. As we went through Kingsburg, passing the Denny's restaurant, I said to my 16-year-old, "I used to work there.""That actual one?""Yes, it was a good store," I replied, thinking back to my first "career" after high school -- restaurant management. "I had been an assistant manager at other locations too, and that was

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-33043628822318621482010-01-12T06:37:00.000-08:002010-01-12T07:03:51.897-08:00

I post updates all the time on Facebook about how far I've run and how fast. The other day, my friend Marilyn asked me teasingly, "You keep running. When will you get there?"My current goal? March 21, Marilyn. Atlanta.Right now, I'm in my ninth week of training for my first full marathon -- the ING Georgia Marathon. I've run quite a few half-marathons, most recently the Nike Women's in San

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-13035465265249836672009-12-01T07:10:00.000-08:002009-12-01T07:12:09.234-08:00

Last night as I drove home from work, police lights came on behind me. We were mired in backed up stop-sign traffic near Olive and Fowler, so I knew the lights were for me.Saying I drive fairly cautiously would be an understatement, so this was the first time I've been pulled over since, I think, 1991. Wasn't nervous though, since I knew I hadn't broken any laws. I just pulled over and reached

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-36428227833745867712009-05-29T05:58:00.000-07:002009-05-29T10:13:42.183-07:00

Last night, Katie and I were at a blues concert at a local farmers market. Just as the evening's performance was wrapping up, I noticed an awesome lightning display beginning to light up the sky to the east.It had been a hot day, reaching 102. Rain isn't that common between May and September in the Central Valley, so I hadn't even paid attention to the forecast for the evening. Usually one word -

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-62365395241481674882009-05-04T14:29:00.000-07:002009-05-05T09:27:46.546-07:00

How do you acknowledge an anniversary for a marriage that is breaking apart? The divorce isn't final yet, but the marriage is definitely over. I've felt a melancholy mood brewing for days as this date has grown nearer.Today would have been our seventh anniversary since our marriage in 2002. Perhaps adding to the weight of this for me is that this is the longest any of my marriages have lasted.

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-602922975692182702.post-11466028275775764862009-04-17T09:04:00.000-07:002009-04-17T09:06:50.974-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, before I went on vacation, I quietly slipped a big piece of personal news into my last blog entry. My husband of almost seven years and I are divorcing.I've been down this road before, but a big difference is that we had a child together while we were married. I've also been a part of his older children's lives for the past 10 years. As soon as we started talking in January

Papillon1966http://www.blogger.com/profile/15119852581184062535noreply@blogger.com2